


Losing Perspective

by Into_Evernight



Category: AFI
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3109568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Into_Evernight/pseuds/Into_Evernight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Attending the Pre-VMA Bash wasn't something Jade wanted to do. What he hates even more than giving up his free night is seeing Davey flirt with another singer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on AFIslash on 01/29/2011.
> 
> This was inspired by my sudden need for canon and this picture:
> 
> http://s214.photobucket.com/albums/cc126/ChazzyLuverGurl/?action=view&current=javey153.jpg
> 
> Thanks to artemis for helping me with this one and encouraging me! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: These are mere characters based on the members of AFI (not the real members, duh). I do not own; I do not make money. No disrespect, harm, or libel is intended; this never ever happened (and never will) as this is 100 percent fictitious.

When Jade had agreed to attend the Pre-VMA Bash, he hadn’t been too keen on the idea. However, despite his reluctance, he told himself it wouldn’t really be that bad—not _too_ bad a trade for a night spent settled comfortably in an overstuffed armchair reading a favorite book. That’d been his plan anyway—as a last minute relaxation before the awards—until Davey had called him to tell him about the event, adamant on going, adamant about socializing with people Jade had never cared to meet, much less be stuck talking to for God knew how long. It was the last thing he’d wanted to do, but Davey wanted all of AFI to be there; he’d been insistent, said it was their goddamn _duty_ , whatever the hell he meant by that. And fuck knew Jade _couldn’t_ say no to Davey; not just because he was very persuasive, but also because he _couldn’t_ get a word in edgewise. That was how he ended up stuck in a dark corner with a Coke in his hand, watching everyone in awkward, uncomfortable silence.

Davey was up on stage with some band—Metal Skool, they said—performing Motley Crue’s “Live Wire.” He was actually doing a pretty good job though Jade was finding it difficult to focus. They’d been out too long today, and he was tired, sweaty, hungry. Craning his neck, he tried to find Hunter or Adam among the many writhing, squirming bodies in the crowd. They were nowhere to be seen. Deep inside, he envied them, wherever they were. They might’ve still been there, or they might’ve managed an inconspicuous escape—something he couldn’t do because he was pressed too close to the front, and Davey’s gaze kept flicking to him as he sang, prowling the stage and flipping his hair back, rolling his eyes in exaggerated movements, and utterly, completely stealing the show. Jade couldn’t really even hear the other singer—was it Michael?—but he wasn’t really surprised. Of course the crowd was going wild, eating it up, and Davey was basking in the attention, the adoration, no doubt feeling elevated to the level of a god. It was obnoxious, and it made Jade’s stomach churn—though annoyance wasn’t all there was to it.

As Davey dropped down to his knees like he was accustomed to doing, pointing, belting out the lyrics in such a strong, confident manner, his eyes and smile moved away from Jade, from the crowd, and focused on Michael. That churning sensation returned, and Jade quickly pinpointed it to jealousy as Davey rose up, leaning too close to Michael—like he normally would to Jade. He knew he shouldn’t feel insulted, shouldn’t feel slighted, when it was only stage performance, when that was just the way Davey was. Despite his best efforts to calm himself by gripping the fuck out of his plastic cup, it did little good and the bitter taste wouldn’t leave his mouth; he just wanted to go home so he wouldn’t have to watch this.

Jealousy was a horrible thing. He knew it wasn’t right, especially since _he_ had no right. Davey touched and flirted and smiled at hundreds of people every night. It didn’t bother him _as_ much when they were just fans—after all, they weren’t very much so a threat of any sort—but when it came to the stage, he _hated_ it when Davey acted like that with anyone else. It was disgusting of him, but feelings couldn’t be choked back, couldn’t be quelled. And he’d tried to make it stop by, stupidly, asking Davey to knock it off, thinking if he didn’t touch him then he wouldn’t feel the fire or get close enough to see the passion or find himself utterly consumed and roasting alive when Davey removed his touch, removed his presence, to stalk to the other side of the stage, anywhere that wasn’t with him, and bestow his attention to someone else. The worst part was he _knew_ he had so much goddamn control over everyone, that he had so much goddamn charm, and it made Jade sick—the whole thing made him sick. He bit his tongue to try to ground himself, hands shaking.

Strangely, Jade wasn’t jealous of Davey’s lovers. Lovers came and went. But music was something _they_ shared, and the onstage touches were reserved for _their_ band. It was even (sort of) okay whenever he gave similar—but not the same—attention to Hunter, or, hell, Adam. It wasn’t ideal, but he could deal with the distant burn. This, though, _this_ was different. Music was more powerful than anything—love, friendship, sex—and Davey was sharing such an intimate thing with a brawny guy in a ripped up mesh shirt and too much wild blonde hair. The crooning, the coy looks slid in his direction, only added salt to the wound. Those were the looks Davey had always given him. And maybe he knew it too. Maybe he knew it because he occasionally, not-so-subtly looked back at Jade pointedly, with this little smirk curving his lips. What a smug bastard.

Jade was no stranger to these feelings. The simultaneous frustration and attraction had been his downfall many times. He hadn’t wanted Davey to know, but maybe he did know and if he didn’t, it was driving him crazy _because_ he didn’t know. It made no sense. He was so keyed up about it; whenever anyone even _implied_ either he or Davey were gay—or god forbid they mentioned _Javey_ —he freaked out, denied it profusely enough to raise a few eyebrows, once earning a disgruntled yet half-teasing, “The lady doth protest too much, methinks” from Hunter. Fuck if the whole world knew by now. Not even having a girlfriend was getting rid of the lingering suspicion, and he couldn’t really blame them because he was _horrible_ at keeping his own secrets.

The worst time was when he and Davey wrote together. All the other times, he could wave it off as simply being horny, attracted. But when they actually sat down, created something together, the fire melted away into something more tolerable, something soothing and comforting, something dark and familiar and intimate and wonderful. Even when he had his doubts about Davey, it was the lyrics, the music, that reminded him why they were still closer than friends or lovers or brothers, reminded him that Davey was still in there and just as much the same person deep down. The downside came in the form of residual guilt whenever he realized he’d judged him and gotten too angry, thought he was the better man, when he’d been the one to change.

And as Davey finally relinquished his beloved stage, finally handed his crown to someone else, the deep-dull ache didn’t vanish, didn’t get any better. Their eyes only met once and Davey offered a smile, but Jade didn’t return it and instead chose to look away. By the time he’d glanced back, Davey had moved on through the crowd, smile still as wide and genuine as ever, hand still lighting on everyone he talked to, and that was when it hit Jade—he didn’t really care. A cold, hard lump formed in the pit of his stomach and ran up his spine and he shivered, uneasy.

He continued to hang back, watching everyone shyly. And Davey continued to be the social butterfly, immediately accepted into the celebrity circles with open arms. Sometimes it was disheartening to see him stoop to that level and right now was one of those times. Fire licked its way through the ice. Davey was edging closer now, on Michael’s arm. Disgusting. Unrightfully angered, Jade crushed his cup, threw it into the garbage can. When they stopped, posed for the camera, Jade had had enough. He crossed his arms—almost self-consciously because they were too close—and tried to conceal his expression with his hair because he knew it was obvious, knew he was being childish for sulking all alone in a dark corner. How teenage. How utterly high school.

But the look on Davey’s face, those stupid faux-innocent, sensual eyes, made Jade feel vindicated. He went rigid as Davey snuggled closer to Michael, and they both looked so smug and pleased with themselves. Well, Davey didn’t look so much as Michael did. Damn guy didn’t know how lucky he was. Momentarily, Jade agonized over the fact he’d pushed Davey away, agonized over the fact that he’d turned down opportunity after opportunity because he was afraid and stupid, because he was—dare he think it—maybe just a _little_ homophobic in the true sense in the word, as in, it _scared_ him. He didn’t hate it, and it didn’t disgust him, but he was undeniably scared for him or Davey to be labeled as such, but _damn_ he just wanted to be open, and _damn_ he hated that others were so confident and sure of themselves that it just didn’t matter what the public thought.

Still, he was a grown man, and this was getting ridiculous. The distance he’d carefully placed between them wasn’t making things any better, only worse. It was then he concluded he _wasn’t_ as jealous of the attention as he was of the openness, and the fact that Davey had many admirers of all genders and acknowledged every single one. He hated the fact he was too much of a wuss, too scared, to speak up. And as he watched, he grew sicker and sicker of it, sicker and sicker of himself and how goddamn _stupid_ it was to let a little thing hold him back from the utter relief of getting it off his chest. He made up his mind, in an impulsive split second, that this was the last straw. As soon as he could drag Davey outside the club, he was going to tell him. His heart thumped uncomfortably excited, his palms went clammy, and the longer he waited, the more awkward and silly he felt.

Minutes inched by slowly. Standing against the wall finally grew to be too torturous. It became apparent to him he wouldn’t get the chance unless he seized it now. So he swallowed it all back and slipped through the thickening crowd, past the drunk party-goers and the girls who laughed too loudly, and crept up behind Davey, feeling foolish, feeling insecure. He caught his breath and tapped his shoulder, reassuring himself it’d be okay and Davey would understand. His breath hitched again when those black-rimmed eyes met his.

“Can we go outside for a minute?” Jade yelled over the noisy crowd, voice cracking as Davey’s firm, sweaty body leaned more into him as he tilted his head to hear.

“Yeah, sure.” Briefly, Davey looked confused, but he smiled and waved to his new friends, telling them as though it were a side thought, “I’ll be right back.”

They slipped outside and Jade took a long breath of the cooler, drier air; he felt so relieved to have some space, to be away from all those people. Davey stopped just a few feet away, half on the sidewalk and half on the parking lot. Jade, however, didn’t want to talk here where they might be seen, might be found. Glancing over his shoulder to signal Davey should follow him, he rounded the corner to the side of the building, where it was dark enough and no one would find them, no one would see them.

Curious, Davey came around as well and stood in front of Jade, eyes impossibly dark. He crossed his arms, asking, “So, what’s up?”

A wave of desperation overtook him as he looked at that nearly black gaze and remembered how close they’d been, remembered how close Davey had been to several different friends these past months. And it made him ache again, made him want to know if he were nothing different, if he were just one of them despite everything they shared. Deep inside, he had the nagging feeling that it was true, and that Davey’s crew—especially Nils—meant more. His eyes dropped to the ground and he scuffed at a piece of gravel with his shoe.

It built and mounted and he couldn’t stand it anymore. A final glance up at Davey’s face, at the intent look, sealed his decision—or lack thereof. He acted on the surge of need, and grabbed him almost forcefully, eliciting a sharp breath from him before he shut it off with his own mouth, digging his teeth into Davey’s lower lip and sucking it in, kissing him with every ounce of frustration and tension and longing and need. He half expected Davey to return it—as he’d seen him do to others many times—but he didn’t. Instead, he stood stiffly, lips slightly parted from Jade’s probing tongue and from shock, hands hovering uncomfortably over Jade’s shoulders. For a moment, Jade continued deepening the kiss, shoving his tongue in Davey’s mouth, groaning against his lips as the heat seared his skin, beating impossibly hot through his veins. He held Davey flush against his body—or more like he pressed _himself_ flush against _Davey’s_ body—and relished the moment, relished the fact he was finally, _finally_ touching the man he’d wanted for oh-so-long. It didn’t last.

Carefully, Davey pushed him away and held him at arms’ length, brow furrowed in confusion and…something else. He swallowed audibly and pressed firm fingers to Jade’s shaking shoulders, watching him with a gaze that could almost be called stern. Jade felt his stomach sink.

“Why…?” For once, Davey seemed at a loss for words.

Fumbling, feeling stupid all over again, Jade whispered hoarsely, pathetically, “I want you.” As soon as the words tumbled carelessly from his lips, he wanted to take them back. It was the wrong thing to say right now, and it sounded so stupid. Heat rose to his face.

“Oh.” Davey was quiet for a moment, never tearing his gaze from Jade’s. During the tense moment that followed, those eyes burned holes into him, and he felt like he’d just melt into a puddle. Slowly, evenly, Davey said, “You want to fuck me.”

“I wouldn’t say _that_ ,” Jade insisted, cringing. But Davey was giving him a pointed look, and he knew it was no use lying. “Uh, maybe.”

Davey sighed. “Jade…”

Quickly, Jade added, “It’s not like I only want to fuck you or something. I, uh, I really like you.” It should’ve been easier to say, but it wasn’t, and it just made him feel stupider and smaller than he already felt. To make things worse, a weak grin spread across his face and he couldn’t seem to contain it.

For whatever the reason, Davey’s expression softened, and for a split-second, Jade felt hope rising and swelling inside him. “I know.”

It shouldn’t have struck him as a surprise, but it did. “You knew?”

“You’re so obvious,” Davey said, eyes sliding coyly in his direction, smirk playing on his lips. “I’m horribly flattered, but I can’t fuck you.”

Jade faltered. “I-I wasn’t asking you to or—”

“Oh, please. You were going there.” Davey rolled his eyes, but he was smiling good-naturedly. “I’d love to, but I really can’t.”

“You want to fuck me too?” Jade asked lamely.

Davey grinned impishly. “Yes. I would’ve if you’d told me when we were younger.” He was quiet, and his playful expression faded to something softer, something more serious. Here, he lowered his voice. “However, I love you far too much to ever start anything with you.”

Again, Jade’s stomach sank. “What do you mean?”

“If we were to have a relationship,” Davey began, quietly, “it would ruin what we have and destroy us. I don’t ever want that.”

“What makes you think that?” Jade asked, almost indignant.

There was a moment of silence, which stretched on far too long in the late summer night. Davey stood unbearably close, lowering his head so Jade couldn’t see his eyes, mouth tugging downwards in regret and disappointment. “It’s already falling apart,” he said in a near-whisper, gripping Jade’s biceps tighter. Glancing up earnestly, he added, “You let your side of things get out of hand. If I were to give into you, it wouldn’t get any better. It’d get worse. Besides, lovers never last, dear, and you mean too much for me to lose you.” He paused just for a second, eyes flitting to the side, then murmured, “I’m sorry.” Jade opened his mouth to argue, but Davey didn’t give him the chance. He quietly slipped away and disappeared around the corner of the building.

By the time Jade had finally recovered and stepped back inside, all traces of the conversation had been wiped clean from Davey’s face, from his eyes. It was like he’d already forgotten because he had to forget, and Jade slunk back into the shadows, miserable and disgusting and foolish, because he knew Davey was right, that he was ruining things, that it was his fault and his own inability to control himself. And he knew Davey was the same way, and instead of their two fires putting each other out, their two fires would combine into a monstrous flame, burning and consuming everything it touched. Davey had seen it would’ve been toxic and distanced himself, just like he did with everyone because he had to.

And it was then that Jade realized Davey was right—lovers never lasted because they couldn’t. The best they could do was hold on for as long as they could before they fell off, before everything shattered into the ugliest wreck imaginable. He left to stew in his misery while Davey drowned it out with false pretensions.


End file.
